As a form tutor, I regularly ask early arrivals “what’s one thing you’ve learned today?”

It’s a much more inviting question than the well-intentioned, but binary, “how are you?”

I am continuously stunned when I need to provide a ‘scaffold’ to what I thought was a simple question.

But when I reflect on my own teaching mistakes, I see how this confusion occurs.

Most people see passion in teaching as a strength.

Some even see it as a non-negotiable.

But it’s a double-edged sword.

One minute I’m introducing the lesson’s objectives, the next I’m revealing the nuances of a subset of skills that weren’t even my lesson’s primary focus.

Before I know it I’m using my double-edged sword to cut deep into precious movement time in my physical education lessons.

This is why I am much better at teaching sports I have limited experience with.

As a boxing aficionado, I can’t get on board with mixed martial arts.

The same way I want to like rugby…I find myself losing interest as soon as someone ends up on the floor.

Ironically, lesson one of my year 7 rugby scheme of work on passing involves repeating the phrase, ‘ball by the pocket, fire the rocket’, whilst demonstrating how to hold the ball and follow through with the correct arm action.

Since my rugby knowledge is incredibly limited compared to my expertise in boxing, when you only have one coaching cue that’s all you use.

In comparison, I could do a 6 week boxing scheme of work on one punch alone.

For students with limited working memory, a lesson on the former would probably lead them to tell their form tutor they learned about the pocket-to-rocket technique of passing a rugby ball.

In comparison, my lesson on teaching the jab in a boxing lesson would, at best, lead to students responding to form tutors ‘what’s one thing you’ve learned today? with “nothing.”

Teaching to the Exam vs Beyond the Exam

Popular phrases in teaching become so drummed into trainee teachers their proverbial ear drums burst with cliches.

Teach to the top.

No child left behind.

Teach beyond the exam.

The last one is idealistic and idiotic in equal measure.

But this is where your passion becomes a double-edged sword.

Your students are (rightly or wrongly) graded on their progress against an exam.

But you’ve been implored to teach beyond the exam.

A walking, talking contradiction right?

Wrong!

According to your passion, you can teach anything!

If you’re using my ADHD head brain anyway.

Ironically, neurotypical teachers are regularly reminded to lead with their passion, personalise their lessons for 30 students, and somehow simultaneously teach to the exam and beyond it.

Then we wonder why students get confused.

I experienced this personally during my first year of teaching A level P.E.

I framed a lesson on the cardiovascular system using footballer Fabrice Muamba’s heart condition.

Hypertrophic Obstructive Cardiomyopathy in case you were wondering.

The problem was defining cardiac hypertrophy is at best a 2-mark question on the syllabus.

But in my mind, my students would share my passion for football, or at the very least my intrigue as to why certain footballers could continue their careers despite heart conditions, whilst others could not.

https://cdn.embedly.com/widgets/media.html?src=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2F-OWxwuqSr_I%3Ffeature%3Doembed&display_name=YouTube&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D-OWxwuqSr_I&image=https%3A%2F%2Fi.ytimg.com%2Fvi%2F-OWxwuqSr_I%2Fhqdefault.jpg&key=a19fcc184b9711e1b4764040d3dc5c07&type=text%2Fhtml&schema=youtube

Students Remember What They Focus On

In enhancing student memory, I emphasised the importance of considering what you’re asking students to focus on.

In the above example, my A-level students would have inadvertently focused on the footballers…

…rather than training-induced increases in left ventricle size (or in Fabrice Muamba’s case, his heart condition).

My ADHD brain hyper-focused on creating content for my YouTube channel, researching different footballers’ heart conditions, and learning about the intricacies of how said conditions impacted the footballer’s careers.

Meanwhile, my video focused student attention on why Christian Erikson’s heart condition meant he could return to football, why Fabrica Muamba’s had to retire, and the nuances of why Muamba’s condition went undetected.

Passion: Advantage or Distraction?

The slick-looking Canva slides, research into the respective cardiac conditions, and recording the YouTube video must’ve taken me at least 4 hours.

The video itself was 20 minutes long.

All of this input for a measly 2 marks.

Dividing the 2 marks by the 4 hours to prepare the resources, and 20 minutes to deliver them works out as 130 minutes to help students earn 1 mark.

Even this maths incorrectly assumes my students can successfully filter the parts of my YouTube video where I teach to the exam, the part where I aim to teach beyond it.

This is another example of where your passion hinders rather than helps your students.

Not only did I spend 4 hours preparing resources for a 2 mark question…but said 2 mark question on cardiac hypertrophy might not even come up in their exams.

Without realising, my passion had got the better of me as I violated one of 3 rules needed to solve the teacher workload crisis.

If your passion will translate to the exam, use it as fuel for your teaching fire…but don’t make the mistake of blindly assuming this.

Calculate the distribution of your efforts on a cost-to-benefit scale for your students.

In most cases, your passion distracts students from what they need to know, and counterproductively overloads their limited mental resources.

We don’t just guess if our work translates to improving students’ understanding, we test it.

Do the same with your passion.